“You’re insane.” Arguing was pointless.
She drained her wine in one savage tilt.
As she reached for a second glass, Kristian’s jaw twitched. He moved to stop her, but Trent was faster.
“Don’t,” he murmured, eyes soft with concern. “It’s not good for you.”
Freya set the glass down, her emotions in turmoil. She’d never imagined Kristian could wound her so deeply.
It seemed you and Freya share a close bond,” Felipe remarked, curiosity piqued as he studied Trent’s expression, searching for hidden meanings.
“We’ve known each other for years,” Trent replied smoothly. “Our bond has always been strong.”
Felipe leaned toward Kristian, whispering, “They’re clearly just friends. If there was anything more between them, wouldn’t it have happened by now? Why wait?”
“Shut up,” Kristian muttered, his chest tightening with an emotion he refused to name.
Freya wasn’t one to tolerate slights quietly – she made sure anyone who crossed her regretted it.
Her gaze settled calmly on Zander. “Mr. Loftus, I’ve always admired your integrity. You strike me as the kind of man who’d make an excellent husband.”
The room fell silent, confusion flickering across every face. No one could follow her sudden shift in tone.
“Where’s this coming from?” Zander asked, eyes darting to Kristian, whose expression had darkened.
“I saw you on that dating show,” Freya said, voice laced with quiet amusement. “Your perspective on love and commitment was… refreshingly principled.”
Zander blinked, utterly lost.
“What did he say?” Felipe interjected, leaning forward.
Freya’s smile was razor-thin. “They posed a hypothetical: What if your idealized first love returned after marriage? Would you leave your spouse for them? His answer was the only one that made sense.”
Felipe’s gaze snapped to Kristian, the unspoken parallel hanging in the air.
Zander stiffened as realization struck.
For that hypothetical, his response had been scathing: only a selfish fool would abandon their vows for a ghost of the past.
Now, with Kristian leaving Freya for Ashley, the irony was unbearable.
“Well? What’d you say?” Felipe nudged him impatiently.
Zander exhaled, ignoring the question. Instead, he locked eyes with Kristian. “Kristian… you’re making a mistake.”
A heavy silence settled over the group.
Kristian’s jaw clenched. “Getting bold with the flattery, aren’t we?” His temper simmered just beneath the surface, barely restrained.
Zander rubbed his temple, choosing his words carefully. Back then, he had spoken hypothetically. Now, knowing Kristian was divorcing Freya for Ashley, he was certain Kristian would come to regret his decision.
“I have business to attend to.” Kristian stood abruptly, shooting Felipe and Zander a warning look. “Remember what I told you.” They nodded stiffly.
As Kristian passed Freya, his dark gaze flicked between her and Trent. “If you’re serious about her, be ready to hand over your fortune. She’s got expensive tastes.”
Trent didn’t miss a beat. “She can have every last penny. It’s hers if she wants it.”
Kristian’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
Even Felipe and Zander stiffened – Trent’s words were a declaration, not a jest.
“Hope you two dive into that relationship quickly – it should be quite the adventure!” Kristian spat, storming out before the suffocating tension overwhelmed him.
Trent followed Freya out, and soon they were in his car.
Freya shot him a sidelong glance, her disapproval clear. “Why did you provoke him like that?”
“Your father sent me to assist you – he instructed me to say those things.” Trent’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, his demeanor effortlessly commanding. “Though I admit, the rift between you two is deeper than I expected.”
“It wasn’t always this way.” Freya slumped back against the seat, exhaustion creeping into her voice. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him today.”
“Jealousy,” Trent stated plainly, as if diagnosing a simple fact.
Freya’s mouth twitched in disbelief. “Don’t be absurd,” she scoffed. She knew Kristian had been obsessed with Ashley for years. The idea of him being jealous over her was laughable.
“Sometimes, men don’t recognize their own emotions until it’s too late,” Trent’s eyes glinted with quiet amusement. “He’ll only realize what he’s lost when you’re truly gone.”
Freya said nothing. The way Trent spoke, so matter-of-fact, made it sound inevitable.
“If he begged you to remarry him… you’d refuse, wouldn’t you?” Trent asked, watching her closely.
“Yes.” The answer left her lips without hesitation. “Even if he is jealous – which he’s not – it changes nothing. I gave him six months to reconsider. He didn’t.”
“Good.” Trent’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
“When are you heading back to Alerith?” Freya changed the subject.
“Once your divorce is finalized.” Trent tilted his head, his smile polished and deliberate. “Your father insisted. Besides, I have business in Jeucwell to settle.”
Freya nodded. “Alright.”
Trent wasn’t just a legal titan – his influence stretched deep into corporate circles. Since childhood, he’d been the golden boy, the standard against which others were measured. Her father, Hugh, adored him. Their bond was unshakable, and Freya had no intention of interfering, despite her own strained relationship with Hugh.
The rest of the ride passed in silence. When Trent pulled up to the villa’s iron gates, he added softly, “Call me if you need anything. I’ll always answer.”
He knew she was capable. He trusted her to handle Kristian. But trust didn’t negate the need for reassurance.
Freya offered a small smile. “Okay.”
Their farewell, tender yet tinged with unspoken understanding, didn’t go unnoticed. From the balcony above, Kristian watched, his grip tightening on the railing until his knuckles blanched. The voice on the phone faded into static.
Only one thought consumed him: How had she and Trent grown so close?
“Sir? Are you listening, sir?” Gerard’s voice finally pierced through his haze. He’d repeated himself twice now, met with silence.
“What?” Kristian barely registered the words. His attention was fixed on Freya as she stepped inside, Trent’s car disappearing down the drive.
Gerard suppressed a sigh. So all that reporting he’d just done had been completely ignored?
Still, for the sake of his paycheck, he repeated himself. “The police just called. They’ve arrested the suspect from Miss Bradley’s car accident. Do you want to go in for questioning?”
“No.” Kristian turned abruptly, already heading downstairs. “Tell them to proceed as per protocol.”
Gerard frowned. His boss had been obsessed with this case before – what changed? But he knew better than to ask. “Understood.”
Kristian ended the call and entered the living room just as Freya stepped inside.
Freya and Kristian’s gazes locked, crackling with a palpable tension that thickened the very air between them. Disdain was deeply etched on their faces, a silent testament to the growing rift between them.
Without a word, Freya turned and ascended the stairs, each step radiating icy determination.
“Stop!” Kristian’s voice rang out – halting yet resonant – as he called after her retreating figure.
Freya ignored him, her steps never faltering.
With purpose, Kristian intercepted her at the bottom of the staircase, planting himself firmly in her path. He towered over her, his face a mask of detached indifference. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low and steady.
“Fine,” Freya conceded curtly, her tone laced with reluctance.
They moved toward the living room, where Kristian casually flicked the remote aside.
Freya’s eyes followed the motion briefly but she said nothing. Instead, she gracefully reached for her cup and poured herself some water. The gentle tinkle of the liquid broke the silence. After a slow, measured sip, she settled onto the sofa, cradling the cup in her hands. “Fine. Get to the point. What do you want to talk about?”
Kristian’s gaze was unyielding, piercing as he asked, “What’s your relationship with Trent Seymour?”
Her response was quick and frank. “Friends.”
“And when did this friendship begin?” Kristian pressed, his tone probing.
Unfazed, Freya replied, “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
.
.
.
A chill passed through Kristian’s eyes, turning them frostier as he countered skeptically, “Trent’s family background has always placed him in elite circles since he was young. How could you possibly have known him back then?”
Freya remained silent, the weight of her secret identity forming an invisible barrier between them.
He studied her closely, his voice laced with a stern warning. “Don’t even think about getting too close to him,” he warned. “He’s not as innocent as he looks.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.